I was waiting on one of my regular customers when his friend came in and sat beside him. He interrupted our conversation to say, “You guys can get back to talking about whatever you’re talking about after you make me a Long Island.”
Now, if it’s one thing a man’s gonna have, it’s the audacity. I mean seriously, ICK! Was that an attempt to be funny or are you just an ass??
I made him his drink and tried to let it go.
Nope. Right back at it.
“Sweetheart, you owe me a straw. Are you gonna give me one? Why am I the only person at the bar without a straw??”
STRIKE TWO. Because I’m not your sweetheart. You came in doing too much and the policy is that you have to ask for a straw if you want one. I asked the other bartender to give him his straw so he could get out of my face, but that didn’t accomplish much of anything.
He noticed that I was getting annoyed and made the worst apology I’ve ever heard in my life: “Hey, I work in the industry too, my bad. I’m just busting your balls. Or I guess since you’re a woman I’m busting your uterus.”
SIR, WHAT?! WHAT-ING MY WHAT?????
Everyone at the bar looked at him like he was a fucking idiot. And he was such an idiot, in fact, that he just thought the whole thing was amusing. But he made an attempt to get everyone on his side by asking if he had offended anybody.
“Why are you asking them if they’re offended when you said it to me??” I questioned him. He didn’t care. He said it was just jokes and I told him, “no, it’s called misogyny babe.” Ya know, since I was already his sweetheart and everything.
As if it could get worse, he started going on and on about how much women want him. How he just has so many that the only problem he has is trying to keep them all off of him.
He asked me for my number, and I made zero attempt to be polite. It was a flat out NO, but of course he persisted.
“Why not? You’re gonna regret it, I’m really rolling out the red carpet for you right now.”
I didn’t even have to reply because another one of my guests did it for me. She was absolutely flabbergasted at the fact that he could possibly think anything about his behavior was appealing. She suggested that he take a gentler approach if he wanted to get anywhere, but that advice went in one ear and out the other. He continued asking for my number and I told him no another three or four times before he just decided to talk about me to everyone else instead of talking to me directly.
“See, she’s gonna tell me no but watch she turns around to go fuck a lame instead. She just doesn’t even know, I would make her go crazy, I got women calling me all the time begging for me to let them suck my dick.”
“So you don’t need me then,” I said.
But there he went again coming up with some corny response.
Then he took a poll of all the women at the bar asking if they were single. Most replied saying they were taken, and somehow that inspired a tangent on how the good women are always taken. How the ones who stay single are crazy and how they just turn into lesbians because other crazy women are the only ones who want them.
He asked me if I was single, and when I said yes, that just got the train started all over again. Though, wouldn’t that make me one of the crazy lesbians you were just talking about??
He went on and on about how I should let him fuck. He said we should make a sex tape, and that the woman who’d called him out earlier should film it given the fact that she was already taken and couldn’t be in it with us!!
I WISH I were making this up!!!
The lady was so disgusted with him she decided to leave: “Do NOT give him your number, sis!!!”
When I said I wasn’t going to anyway, I think it just made him mad.
He started shouting about how if I wasn’t going to let him hit, he would find a white woman who would. “The white women love this dick! They want this n*gga right here, they love this n*gga dick.”
Whewwwwww chile, I’d had enough. The poor white woman at the edge of the bar had had enough too, dammit! (Laugh)
I told him I could take him saying whatever to me, but that he couldn’t use inappropriate language in front of all the guests like that. He just went back and forth with me saying that it was a bar and that the whole point of sitting at a bar is to be able to do what you want.
At a CHEESECAKE FACTORY???!!!?!?!
NO. Immediately no.
His friend called them an Uber and hurried to leave. It wasn’t until then that this guy kind of snapped out of it.
He apologized over and over again and asked if he’d really embarrassed himself that badly.
I think we all know the answer to that…